


Loveable Idealists

by Opalgirl



Category: Tortall - Pierce
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-12
Updated: 2010-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-08 21:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalgirl/pseuds/Opalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Curse you both for being nosy," she grumbles. "And why did I have to take up with two of you who like to save people?" Buri doesn't need saving, thank you very much, and she'd like to remind certain people of this. Written for Goldenlake's Tortall Fanfiction SMACKDOWN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loveable Idealists

Buri remembers far too much. The sight of _her_ princess walking into the fray of the battle on King Jonathan’s Coronation Day, and the way the earth shook beneath her feet that day. The deaths of Liam Ironarm and dozens of others in front of her very eyes, while she was powerless to protect any of them routinely come back to haunt her.

She remembers riding into a village with her Group, laden down with all the supplies they could carry, and being swarmed by desperate, starving people. She also remembers the faces of people – be they Tortallan, Saren lowlander, K’mir, or otherwise – worn down by war, disease, famine, flood, or fire. The hollow-eyed, grim, and hungry faces of the children stand out most of all in her mind.

The sight of ruined homes and hastily-built refugee camps made by people who had nowhere else to go, along with the smell of thick smoke and burned flesh were memories that were too close at hand. The screams of dying men echoed around her head sometimes, when she couldn’t rest, to top it all off.

“Buri?” Her current companion sits on the edge of the bed. “What are you thinking about?”

Buri sighs. This young woman would never understand. How old is she, anyway? Twenty-two? Twenty-five? “It’s complicated, Kel,” she says, tartly, short-tempered and tired, “and it’s late. Go back to sleep.”

The young knight takes the liberty of leaning her head on Buri’s shoulder, sitting quietly, saying nothing for a long moment. “Talk about it?” she asks, finally.

Buri scowls and stops herself from shrugging off the younger woman. The lady knight means nothing by it, of course. “Raoul was right,” she growls. “You think you can save _everyone_. You can’t.”

“If she keeps it up,” comes a deeper voice, from the adjoining room, “she might just succeed at saving everyone. Yes, even you, Buri.”

Buri glowers in the direction of her husband’s study. “Must you eavesdrop?”

“I thought we shared, dearest,” Raoul quips, strolling into the bedchamber, and she throws another glare at him.

“Eavesdropping _is_ rude,” Keladry points out, and Raoul shakes his head at her.

“It was far from a private conversation,” he points out, sitting on the opposite of the bed. “And Kel’s right, Buri – you can’t think on it all.”

Buri rolls her eyes at both her husband and her lover (she supposes ‘lover’ is the correct term, even if she’s not sure) and flops back on the mattress. “Curse you _both_ for being nosy,” she grumbles. “And why did I have to take up with two of you who like to save people?”

Raoul grins, and heaves his bulk across the bed to kiss her, gently. “We’re loveable idealists, aren’t we, Kel?”


End file.
